


And Pain Shall Be No More

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A recent murder and the suicide of someone Hathaway knew from the seminary turn out to be connected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Pain Shall Be No More

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Lewis Summer Challenge 2013

Laura Hobson was packing up after attending the crime scene, when she happened to look up and notice James Hathaway.  The sergeant normally looked serious, but his current expression was even more miserable than she would have expected.

“James, are you okay?” she called.

“Well, not really.”

“Tell me!” the words came out more as an order than as an invitation, but that seemed to be what he needed.

“I found out this morning that a guy I was friendly with at the seminary, who suffered from chronic pain, and had recently had his meds changed to the wonder drug Hendwinter produce, threw himself off his church tower last week.”

“Oh James, I’m so sorry.”  Laura checked that no-one was watching and gave him a hug.

“Oy, you, put my sergeant down,” Lewis wandered over to join them.

“I’ll leave James to explain,” Laura said as she returned to loading her bag into the car boot.

“I don’t think I need to.”

“Robbie, I’m relying on you to ask the necessary questions.”

Lewis nodded, and indicated that they should be getting back to the station.

***

The day was spent with interviews of those who had known Dan Ellis, whose body they had been called out to see.  Hathaway was quieter than usual, but Lewis had managed to get him to explain about his friend, so he wasn’t surprised at the lack of his usual retorts.

They left the station together and Lewis asked, “What are you planning on doing this evening?”

“I’m heading home, will get myself something to eat and read or listen to music.”

“Rather than drink and think too much?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be surprised if I said I didn’t believe you?  We’re going to buy fish and chips and take them back to my place.  I bought some beer the other day, which goes well with a nice piece of cod.”

“It’s really not necessary.”

“Now sergeant, you wouldn’t disobey an order would you?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.”

Once they had eaten their food and each drunk a bottle of beer, Lewis tried to think of yet another way of distracting Hathaway.  He didn’t think it would be a good idea to let him go home and spend the rest of the evening blaming himself for the death of a man that he could have done nothing about.

“How about we watch one of the DVDs from the set Lyn gave me for my birthday?”

“Which one was that?”

“Life on Mars.”

“Okay then; we could watch the first episode.”

“Right; well you get some more beers whilst I set it up.”

“How about you get the beers and _I_ set it running.  It’ll be quicker that way.”

“Cheeky sod!”

They sat side by side on the settee and soon became immersed in the plot.  At least Lewis did; Hathaway spent a lot of the time saying, “you can’t do that” and “how on earth did people get away with that attitude,” to which Lewis said “shh,” and “I can remember things like that happening.”

The first episode finished with the trailer for the next one.  Lewis looked across at Hathaway, “You want to watch the second episode, don’t you?”

“Would you mind?”

“Not at all; but it’s your turn to fetch the beers.”

At the end of the second episode, Lewis glanced at the clock and realised that it was getting late.  “You do know you’re over the limit now, so you can’t drive home.”

“It’s okay; I can walk.”

“Don’t be daft; it’s pouring with rain and there’s a perfectly reasonable bed in the spare room.  Kip here tonight and then you can nip home in the morning for a change of clothes.”

Hathaway looked grateful for the offer and Lewis surmised that he hadn’t wanted to go back to an empty flat.  They said good night and both went to bed.  When Lewis went to use the bathroom later, he thought he could hear the sound of quiet sobbing as he walked past the spare room, but decided not to say anything.

***

The next few days were spent in trying to identify anyone who might have had a motive for murdering Dan Ellis.  The method was clear – a blunt instrument to the back of the skull -- but so far, there didn’t seem to be any reason why someone would want him dead.  He’d had a row with a couple of mates in the pub a few days before his death, which had led to him storming out of the pub.  One of the mates had an alibi for the time of death whilst the other didn’t, but since he lived alone and claimed to be asleep at the time (which was about 1 o’clock in the morning), this didn’t necessarily mean that he was the guilty party.  The argument was over a controversial decision in a local derby match and, as Hathaway said, if they were going to arrest people purely because of this particular disagreement, then they should be arresting half the people in the station as well.

Despite their best attempts, they were making no progress, so Lewis decided that they’d spent as much time as they usefully could and subsequently, should go home. 

“Do you want to come over and watch another couple of episodes?”

“Yeah, that would be good.”

“Tell you what; I’ll pick up a Chinese whilst you go home and get yourself an overnight bag.  I’ve got a bottle of whisky we could try, so you might as well stay over again.”

They watched the DVD in much the same fashion as before: Lewis trying to work out whether Sam Tyler was in a coma or back in time, and what the significance of the Test Card Girl was; Hathaway complaining about the behaviour and waving his arms around until Lewis told him to be more careful -- as he’d nearly been hit.  Hathaway did, however, confess to having a soft spot for Ivanhoe.

***

At work the following morning, Lewis asked, “When did you say the funeral was?”

“It’s tomorrow.  But I haven’t asked for time off.”

“I think you should go.”

“Sir?”

“And you won’t need time off; you can treat it as part of our current investigation.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“Julie has just discovered that Dan Ellis’ brother Jacob -- having recently started taking the Hendwinter prescription pain killers -- committed suicide five months ago.”

***

Hathaway wasn’t particularly surprised that there weren’t many people at the funeral.  Lewis had instructed him to make a note of anyone he wouldn’t expect to be there and then had told him not to be daft when he’d said that he should be top of the list.

The front pew was occupied by an older lady who Hathaway took to be Gates’ mother.  She was accompanied by a woman of a similar age, probably her sister, and a man and woman about Hathaway’s age; either Gates’ siblings or cousins, he presumed.  There were some people who, from the way they nodded vaguely to each other, Hathaway took to be parishioners. 

Other than that, there were three priests; one, a slightly older man who had decided to join the priesthood after some years working in retail that he recognised from his time at the seminary.  Hathaway hadn’t known him well, but he’d always been impressed with his breadth of experience and understanding of people -- something Hathaway had felt he and many of the other students were at times lacking.  Sitting next to him was a younger man, someone who had joined the seminary after he had left; Hathaway recognised him vaguely from a group picture he had seen.  Lastly, there was one of the seminary lecturers.  This was a surprise.  The man had always come across as someone very clear on his views and completely uncompromising.  Why he should be at the funeral of someone who had committed suicide was a mystery.

After the service, and as they stood to leave, Hathaway found himself next to one of the regular congregation.

“Such a shame,” she said.  “And so unnecessary.”

Hathaway made a non-committal sound.

“I used to tell Father Chris that pain is a sign from God that we shouldn’t be doing something.  But after he started taking his new pills, he felt he could do everything.  And for a few weeks he did, rushing round getting involved in all sorts of things.  But then after Mass that Sunday, he told me that he wouldn’t be able to do as much for the next few days, as he’d run out of his pills and was going to have to wait until he could get a repeat prescription.  That seemed a bit strange to me.  I mean, I know they like you to order your prescription in advance, but they don’t generally do more than moan at you if you forget.  And they certainly don’t let you go without.  But I didn’t want to say anything.  Only since then I’ve wondered if it was in some way my fault that, you know ..”

Hathaway did his best to reassure the woman, whilst storing the information away.  She told him that a few of them were meeting in the local pub and said that he’d be welcome if he wanted to join them, but instead he said that he ought to be off, as it would take him a while to get home.  She nodded and wished him safe travel.

***

Hathaway went straight to Lewis’ flat when he arrived back in Oxford.

Lewis let him in and said, “I thought I’d cook tonight.  Bangers and mash okay for you?”

“Sounds great.”

Once they had eaten, Hathaway said, “Would you mind if we didn’t watch the DVD tonight?”

“Of course not.  Do you want to talk about today?  You can wait until tomorrow if you prefer.”

“No, I think it might help to talk now.”

“Okay.  Beer or coffee?”

“Definitely beer.”

They both sat on the settee.  Lewis was currently using the armchair for all the newspapers and circulars that he intended to sort through and there seemed little point in moving them.

Hathaway seemed lost in thought, so Lewis prompted him by asking, “So who did you see at the funeral?”

“A few family members.  I didn’t know Chris Gates well enough to find out who was in his family, so I can’t comment on that.  There was no sign of a father, but there could be various reasons there.  A reasonable number from the congregation were there, older folk; although I gather that they were representing quite a few who were unable to attend as they were working or had family commitments.”

“Right; so far as expected.  Who else?”

“Apart from me there were two other people from the seminary.  I would have expected more, but they seemed to have completely cut him adrift.  I’m sorry ..” Hathaway stopped and gave a stifled sob.  “It was as if he’d failed them and therefore they wanted nothing more to do with him.  They couldn’t see the man with a need at all.”

Abruptly Hathaway got up and left the room.  Lewis gave him a few minutes, but when he failed to return he went to look for him.  He found him sitting on the spare bed with his head in his hands.  Lewis sat down beside him and put his arms round the younger man.

“Is that what happened when you left?”

A nod of the head.  Lewis continued to hold him until he felt the other man start to wriggle away.  He let go of him.

“Do you want to carry on, or would you prefer to go to bed?”

“No, I’m okay now. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it.  I like to think that _I_ am able to see a man with a need.”

Lewis went into the kitchen to make them both some coffee.  By the time it was ready, Hathaway had returned to the settee.

“Were you surprised to see the two from the seminary who did come?”

“If I’d had to name anyone who would come, Hargreaves would have been top of the list, so no.  I didn’t know the other man, but I got the feeling they’d come together.  No, not in that way,” Hathaway had noticed Lewis’ raised eyebrows, “I meant that both were coming from the same direction and so one gave the other a lift.”

“Fair enough.  Anyone else?”

“Yes, Father Basil.  I still can’t work out why he was there.”

Hathaway explained his reservations about Basil’s presence and then relayed the conversation he’d had with the parishioner.

Lewis nodded when he’d finished.  “Not much, but it gives us something we can look into.  All of which can wait until tomorrow.  Now, you need to get some sleep.”

***

 The following afternoon Lewis called out to Hathaway, “We’re going to talk to Imogen Ellis, Dan Ellis’ sister.  We need to talk to the family again, and she volunteered to see us to help spare her parents.”

Imogen Ellis welcomed them into her house and made them a cup of tea.  Lewis asked her a few general questions about Dan, but she couldn’t think of anyone who might have had a particular dislike of her brother, or if he had done anything different that she was aware of.

Then Lewis changed tack slightly.  “I understand that you also lost your other brother quite recently.”

“Yes, Jacob committed suicide just over three months ago.”

“How did Dan take it?”

“We were all shocked at first, but then Dan didn’t seem to be able to move on.  He kept saying that there had to be something wrong with Jacob’s tablets.”

“In what respect?”

“He said Jacob had run out and had to wait until he could get a repeat prescription.  Which seemed ridiculous.”

“Mmm.  It does seem unlikely, I agree.  Is there anything else you can remember?”

“Dan said he had been in contact with someone called,” she paused, trying to remember the name, “Barry, maybe, no, Basil.  But that’s about all I know.  I’m not sure if that helps you at all though.”

“We have to look at several different lines of enquiry, so anything you can tell us is going to be useful.”

Lewis thanked Imogen for her time and they left. 

Once in the car, Hathaway turned to Lewis and said “It has to be Father Basil.  It’s not that common a name.”

“Agreed.  We may well need to speak to him in the near future.  And in the meantime, we may soon be in possession of some more information about this Hendwinter drug.  I asked Laura to see what she could find out and she’s sent me a text suggesting we meet at the pub.”

They drove straight to the pub.  Hathaway offered to leave Lewis to speak to Laura by himself, but was told not to be so daft.  Laura had found a table overlooking the river and warmly greeted them both when they arrived.

Once they all had a drink, Lewis asked, “What can you tell us, then?”

“I couldn’t find out that much.  This so-called ‘wonder drug’ seems to work extremely well for people who have been suffering from chronic pain for some time.  In fact, the difference it can make has been described at times as ‘almost miraculous.’  Now, you asked me if it was possible to run out, and that’s where it becomes interesting.  Access to the drug is strictly controlled; with most repeat prescriptions, you collect a few days before you finish the last batch, but with this one, it’s not possible.”

“That ties in with what we’ve heard.”

“Also, the prescription specifies three tablets one day and then two on the next, so the patient is issued with 70 tablets.”

“Which would mean that if you decided to take three tablets every day you’d run out four days early,” Hathaway said.

“But why would you ignore the instructions?” Lewis wasn’t convinced.

“Possibly because you felt you could do anything on the three-tablet days but less able on the two-tablet days.  And perhaps having more ‘three tablet days’ was worth running out of them prematurely, which would mean spending the last few days in bed?”

“That would make sense,” Laura said.  “Especially if something within the pain killers was giving you some form of ‘high.’”

“And in which case by not taking them, you’d in effect be going ‘cold turkey,’” Lewis mused thoughtfully.  “I think we could be onto something here.”

***

 The following morning, Hathaway walked into the office carrying two cups of coffee just as Lewis finished a phone call.

“Right,” Lewis said, “Drink up.  We’re going to Abingdon.”

They were in the car by the time Hathaway managed to ask _why_ they were going to Abingdon.

“I got hold of your Father Basil ..”

“He’s not my Father, far from it.”

“.. and he said he was visiting someone in Abingdon today and if we wished to talk to him, this would be a good opportunity.  He thought it would be best to choose somewhere ‘neutral’ and has told us to be at a particular tea rooms by half past eleven.”

Lewis noted that Hathaway sounded less than enthusiastic about the meeting and suspected that if he could have managed it, he would have found a way to avoid going.  He decided to distract his sergeant temporarily.

“It was odd in that episode last night, when Sam Tyler saw his four year old self.  You’d expect the universe to self-destruct when that happens.  Although if he’s in a coma and not actually back in time, I suppose it wouldn’t.

“I can’t believe that anyone could think it good policing to go undercover in a pub.  And as for arresting someone for cattle rustling, words fail me.”

Lewis was aware that this wasn’t in fact true, and they spent the rest of the journey arguing happily about the merits, or otherwise, of the series.

They reached Abingdon and found the tea rooms.  Father Basil had chosen a secluded table and the two men joined him.  Lewis introduced himself and went to introduce Hathaway.

“I remember James Hathaway very well,” the priest said, not bothering to disguise the sneer in his voice.  “And now you’re a detective sergeant; clearly you’ve found the right level for your intellectual abilities.”

Lewis ignored the barbed comment.  “I understand that you have been in communication with Dan Ellis?”

“The name is not familiar to me.”

“It was something to do with the Hendwinter pain relief drug.”

“Oh, was that his name?  His email address was ‘surlygriffon’ and he signed himself as such.  I never asked him for his real name.”

“Why was he writing to you?”

“He suspected his brother’s death was related to the drug.”

“But why you?”

“My niece has started taking the drug.  My sister had mentioned it to me and I had searched the internet to see what I could find out.  This Ellis, as you tell me he is called, had written a couple of blog posts to which I had responded.”

“And you were at the funeral of Mr Gates.”

“Yes, Father Chris had told me he was taking the drug and I had hoped I might find out more by attending.  I didn’t.”

“What is your opinion of the drug?”

“I think it is too early to say.  I feel that two suicides of people taking a drug for chronic pain is no indication that there has to be a problem with the drug.  The pain itself no doubt weakens the will.  And now, gentlemen, I do have another appointment.”

The priest stood up and walked out of the café without a backwards glance.  Lewis and Hathaway looked at each other.

“He knows more than he’s saying,” Lewis said.

Hathaway grimaced.  “He hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Come on, let’s go and find a decent pub.  I’ll buy you a pint to take away the nasty taste he’s left.”

They were on the way back to Oxford when Hathaway’s phone rang. 

He answered it, listened to the caller and when they had rung off said, “That was Innocent.  We’re to go straight to her office when we get back.”

“Just when I thought today couldn’t get any worse.”

They did as they had been ordered. 

Once the door was shut Innocent said, “The potential witness you went to see, Father Basil Savery, was killed in a hit and run earlier this afternoon.”

She was about to say more, when Hathaway moaned.

“Sit down!” she ordered.  “And put your head between your knees.”

Hathaway did as he was told.

“Robbie,” Innocent added, “Go and get him a drink of water.”

When Lewis returned, he saw that Hathaway was sitting up and looking slightly less pale.  Innocent was patting him on the shoulder.  She took the glass of water and gave it to him, with instructions to drink it slowly.  Having done so, he started to stand up, but she told him to stay where he was.

“I don’t want you fainting in here.  You’ll take up too much room on the carpet.”  Then turning to Lewis she said, “Tell me what you’ve got on this case.”

Lewis explained what they knew about the Hendwinter drug and the effects of misusing it.  He also outlined their failure to obtain much information from Savery and how they believed him to be withholding information.  Innocent explained that eye witnesses had seen Savery cross the road towards Abingdon School when a car had appeared ‘as if from nowhere,’ crashed into him and sped off.  There was no doubt that it had been deliberate.

Hathaway muttered, “I knew he wasn’t telling us everything.  I should have pushed him for more.”

Innocent replied, “From what I’ve heard of him, he wasn’t the sort who would have been pushed easily.  It was his decision not to tell you more.  The Abingdon officers are making the initial enquiries, so I suggest you get off home and then you can start working through their reports first thing tomorrow.”

Lewis didn’t even consider taking Hathaway to his sergeant’s flat and drove straight to his home. 

“Right, I’ll get us something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well I am and you can do me the courtesy of sitting at the table with me whilst I eat.”

Lewis produced two plates of fish fingers, mashed potato and baked beans. 

Hathaway looked at it and muttered, “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Neither am I, but that’s about all I’ve got left until I go shopping.”

Lewis started to tell Hathaway about the latest exploits of his grandson and watched without comment as the younger man seemingly ate his food without realising what he was doing.  Afterwards they adjourned to the settee and Lewis set the DVD running.  A quarter of an hour later, he became aware that Hathaway wasn’t complaining at the standards of policing in 1973 and that he had fallen asleep.  He turned the sound down, but continued to watch; if he had to watch the episode again, it wouldn’t matter. It might even help him to work out what was going on.

***

The following morning they were on their way back to Abingdon.  Savery’s sister was coming to formally identify the body and they had arranged to meet her afterwards to find out more about her brother.

Lewis hunted around for a way to broach Savery’s conduct at the Seminary with Hathaway, but, failing to find a suitably tactful way, decided on the direct approach.

“I imagine Savery was pointed in his comments when you decided to leave the Seminary.”

“Even before I had made my decision, he had been unpleasant.  He would ask for a viewpoint on a subject and expect a logical argument to be made for it.  He took great delight in making me stand at the front of the class, give my thoughts and then proceed to pick them apart strand by strand.  It was never constructive; he never suggested an alternative; just belittled my ideas.  I came to hate his classes and he knew it.  The more I tried to avoid attracting his attention, the more pleasure he took in finding opportunities to humiliate me.”

“No wonder you weren’t keen to see him again.”

Hathaway made a non-committal sound and Lewis patted him on his leg.  “Oh, sergeant, just remember that I have a high opinion of you and your abilities.”

Once at Abingdon police station they were shown to an interview room.

“The sister will be with you soon,” the constable said.

They waited patiently and after a few minutes, the door opened and a nun came in.

“Good morning, gentlemen.  I’m Sister Agatha.  I understand you would like to talk to me about my brother.”

Both men stood up.  There was a slight pause before Hathaway pulled up a chair for her and Lewis made the introductions.

“I’m not sure how much I can help you.  We didn’t have much contact with each other.  But please do ask me anything you want to know and I will tell you what I can.”

“Yes, um,” Lewis tried to find the right words.  “Do you have any other brothers or sisters?”

“No, it’s always been just the two of us.  My father passed on ten years ago and my mother finally joined him last year.”

“Right.  In which case this is going to seem like a very personal question.”

“I may be a nun, Inspector, but it doesn’t mean I’m not aware of the ways of the world.  What do you want to know?”

“Your brother mentioned a niece, his sister’s child.”

“I rather imagine he didn’t expect anyone to follow up this imaginary personage.  In rather the same way that he never imagined anyone would question anything he said.”

Hathaway moved and Sister Agatha looked at him shrewdly.

“Did you know my brother at all?”

“Yes, I did have some dealings with him.”

“Then you will be aware of how intolerant he was of any kind of weakness.  He was especially hard on anyone who gave in to pain.  Ironic really, considering how many painkillers he was forced to take.”

“He didn’t mention that when we spoke to him.”

“I am not surprised.  It’s strange; in his last letter to me he had written that he had requested he be allowed to take a new drug, but his doctor had refused to prescribe it, saying that it was not suitable for him.”

“That’s very interesting,” Lewis said.  “Did he say anything else?”

“No,” Sister Agatha smiled.  “He wrote to me every six weeks, precisely three paragraphs.  He never replied to anything in my letters and I’m not even sure he read them.”

“Thank you very much, Sister.  You have been very helpful.  Can we offer you a lift anywhere?”

“Thank you; that’s very kind of you, but one of the officers here has said they’ll take me back to Didcot so I can catch the train.  One last thing, Sergeant,” she turned to Hathaway, “My brother’s big mistake was to look only at the head and ignore the heart; you look like someone who is learning to look at both. You will find it much more rewarding.”

***

When they arrived back at the Oxford station, they were greeted by the desk sergeant. “There’s someone here who wanted to speak to you.  He’s only just come in.”

“Thank you.  Have you got an interview room free?”

“Yes.  I’ll bring him to you.”

Once more, Lewis and Hathaway found themselves in an interview room, waiting curiously to see who they were going to meet this time.

A young man came in.  “Hi!  I’m Craig Wilder.”

Hathaway nodded, “One of the Dan Ellis’ friends.  You were involved in the argument in the pub.”

“Yeah.  What a stupid thing to argue about.  We all thought it would blow over in a few days.  If I’d known ..”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing,” Lewis was too tired to listen to a long explanation.  “What brought you in to see us?”

“I was talking to Imogen and she’d mentioned that you’d been asking about Jake’s death.  Dan certainly was going on about that, and how he believed someone should be held accountable.  He said he was going to meet someone to discuss it.  He made it sound like he’d made a breakthrough.”

“Did he mention a name?”

“I’m not exactly sure; something like ‘Peter Masters’ maybe.  Dan said he was high up on the research side.  It’s probably not of much use.”

“Thank you for coming in.  We’ll certainly take a look at it.”

After Wilder had left, Lewis looked at Hathaway.  “What do you think?”

“It’s worth considering.  I’ll see what I can find out.”

They went back to their office and Hathaway made some phone calls.

 After about ten minutes, he reported his findings. “Peter Masterson, Deputy Director of Research at Hendwinter and head of research on our favourite painkiller.  Should be on his way home and I have an address.”

Lewis nodded and they both picked up their jackets before heading out.

When they reached Masterson’s house Hathaway rang the bell.  A lady, presumably Mrs Masterson, answered the door.  Lewis explained who they were and she let them in, calling out to her husband as she did so.  Whilst they waited, she absentmindedly picked up the school blazers that had been dropped on the floor.

“Sorry,” she apologized.  “Typical teenagers, unable to put anything away.”

“That’s Abingdon School, isn’t it?” Hathaway asked.  “A bit of a distance to travel.”

“Yes.  We moved here about a year ago and felt it was better to leave them where they were happy and making good progress.  The journey is a bit of a bind, but generally one of us is able to pick them up two or three times a week, which helps a bit.  And in fact, yesterday, Peter was giving a talk to the sixth formers at the school about careers in pharmaceuticals.”

They heard a creak on the stairs and then Peter Masterson appeared, “Gentlemen, what can I do for you?  Please come into the study.”

They followed him into his study.  There were only two chairs; Masterson sat behind his desk and Lewis took the other chair, leaving Hathaway standing.

“I understand you met Dan Ellis a week ago,” Lewis began without preamble.

“Oh yes.  I had said we might have been able to negotiate some financial compensation, providing he signed a declaration that he would say no more on the subject.  He declined the offer.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“On the edge of the woods.  He wanted to meet somewhere we could not be overlooked.”

“And what happened afterwards?”

“I went my way and he went his.”

“You are aware that his body was found in those woods?”

“I expect he had been mugged.  It’s not the sort of place you want to be hanging around in at night.”

“I see.  Can anyone confirm the time you met him?  I presume your wife will be able to confirm the time you arrived home that night?”

“No and no.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When I work late, I sleep in a separate bedroom.  My wife has difficulty getting to sleep at nights, so I prefer not to wake her when I come to bed.”

Lewis nodded.

“Do you know a Father Basil Savery?” Hathaway asked.

“Oh yes,” Masterson practically sneered.  “He wanted me to arrange for him to have the new painkillers.  There was no way I was going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“This drug is for the young man, who will benefit from our drugs and live a fuller, more active life, not for the older man who’s past his best.  We’re pushing for it to enter the American market; they’re not interested in something for the older person and the money is with the young.  You,” he pointed at Hathaway “would be the ideal candidate.  We wouldn’t even consider you,” indicating Lewis.  “And now, gentlemen, if you have no further questions, I have things I need to get on with.”

“No further questions for the moment,” Lewis said.

Once they were clear of the house, Lewis turned to Hathaway.  “He’s definitely involved.  If he didn’t do it himself, then he almost certainly knows who did.”

“Quite.  Dan Ellis killed because he couldn’t afford any hint of the side effects to reach his potential American purchasers.  And presumably, Father Basil was getting too close.”

“I would guess he was hoping to blackmail Masterson into arranging for him to receive the painkillers.”

“So all that we need to do is prove it.”

“His car doesn’t seem to be here.  I imagine the Cleo is Mrs Masterson’s.  See if uniform can track down his car; because if he was involved in Savery’s death, it would be damaged.”

Once back in their office, Innocent came in to see them.  Lewis brought her up to speed on their suspicions about Masterson, together with the lack of tangible proof.

“Right.  We’ll give it 24 hours to see what else we can find before we bring him in for interview.  I’d like to have as much as possible when we do question him.  He now knows that you suspect him; do you think he will do anything else in the meantime?”

“I think the only risk is if someone contacts him again.  And if he knows we’re watching him, I suspect he’ll be more circumspect about his movements.”

“We might find something if we seized his computer,” Hathaway added, “but it’s unlikely he will have saved anything incriminating on it.”

“And by the time we get the warrant, he’ll have wiped it anyway,” Innocent nodded.

They stayed in the office, tying up all the loose ends before calling it a day.

As they left, Hathaway said, “I’m afraid I fell asleep during the DVD last night.  I don’t suppose it would be possible ..”

“Of course it would, lad.  I was going to suggest the same myself.”

***

The following morning, Hathaway began the tedious task of trawling through Savery’s computer, which had been sent through from the local force.  As he had expected, there seemed to be little of interest.  Savery’s dealings with Masterson had been of a slightly dubious nature and he had therefore been careful to cover his tracks.

Hathaway was just debating getting a coffee when Lewis called out, “Uniform have found Masterson’s car in for damage repair.  Claimed he’d hit a deer.  According to the mechanic, they’d not seen damage like that from a deer.  Forensics are on their way over.”

“Let’s hope they find something, because I’m not having any success here.  Do we know if anything has been thrown up on Ellis’ computer?”

“Nothing we didn’t already know; various links to blog posts and articles about the Hendwinter drug, but nothing to link Ellis specifically with Masterson.”

“Anything about his contact with Father Basil?”

“Not much.  Although it would appear that Savoury had a far better knowledge of the drug than he led us to believe.”

“Given what we’ve learned, that doesn’t greatly surprise me.”

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?  To find out that someone who had looked down on you and ridiculed you in front of others has behaved in such a fashion.”

“Yes,” Hathaway looked thoroughly miserable.  “I know you don’t have a faith, but it still means something to me; and it is painful when someone like Father Basil lets you down.”

Suddenly realising how open he had been about his feelings, Hathaway blushed and turned away.

“I understand; although I’m probably not the best person to help you there.  It’s just a thought, but you could always contact this Hargreaves you mentioned was at the funeral.  He sounds like the sort of bloke who would understand.”

Hathaway smiled at Lewis.  “I think I might do that.”

They both returned to their respective tasks, until Lewis’ phone rang again.  Hathaway waited until he had closed the conversation, “Excellent, thank you very much.”

“Good news?” he asked.

“Yes.  Forensics have found traces of fabric on Masterson’s car.  They will need time for further analysis, but they can confirm that what they have found indicates contact with a person, rather than a wild animal.”

“So we can go and pick him up?”

“I’ll just go and let Innocent know; she said she wanted to be kept up to date with our progress.”

Whilst Hathaway was waiting impatiently for Lewis to return, his phone rang.  It was Julie, to say that she had a Mrs Masterson on the line and could he speak to her.

“Of course; put her through.”

“Sergeant Hathaway, I didn’t really know who to speak to, and it’s probably not important, but you seemed so polite and friendly yesterday and I thought you would know what to do.”

“I’ll do want I can, Mrs Masterson.  What’s happened?”

“I’d gone into the shed in our back garden, because I wanted to get the secateurs to cut some of the roses.  I knocked a trowel onto the floor and when I bent down to pick it up, I saw that there was a log there, which I don’t remember being there before.  And it was covered in blood.  I tried to phone my husband, but he’s not answering his phone and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay, Mrs Masterson.  Don’t touch anything.  Go and make yourself a cup of tea and someone will be with you very soon.”

Hathaway rushed out and ran to Innocent’s office, where he knocked on the door and went in without waiting for a reply.  He relayed his telephone conversation.

“Right,” said Innocent.  “You two get over to the Mastersons at once.  I’ll put out a call to find him.”

On the way, Lewis received a phone call to say that Masterson’s PA had confirmed that he had come to work, but was on his way to London on the train.  The PA had been surprised, since she had not been aware of him having a meeting, and furthermore, their clients normally came to Oxford. The Met had been contacted and would meet the train.

Once at the house, Hathaway was taken by Mrs Masterson to see the log.  He reassured her that she had done the right thing, whilst Lewis phoned for forensics.  Hathaway explained that they would have to ask her some questions about events over the past few days, which although shaken, she agreed to do. 

 “Did your husband work late regularly?”

“Sometimes until six or seven, rarely later than that, unless he was meeting clients.”

“Did he meet anyone last week?”

“Not that I’m aware of -- although I met some of my friends last Wednesday and he was out when I got home.  The boys are okay on their own for a few hours.”

“What time did you get home?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but it would have been by ten o’clock.”

“And you don’t know what time your husband arrived home?”

“No, I sleep solidly.  I’m quite used to Peter coming to bed late so I barely notice it.”

“He told us that on those occasions he sleeps in the spare room.”

“Inspector, I may not notice when he comes to bed, but I certainly notice that he’s there in the morning.”

“I’m sorry; I must have misunderstood what he’d said.”

The forensics officer came in to say that they had finished and having checked that Mrs Masterson would be all right on her own, Lewis and Hathaway left too.

Once they were in the car, Lewis said, “I’ve had a text saying that Masterson was picked up at Paddington Station and is being escorted back to Oxford.”

By the time Masterson was brought back into the police station, Innocent had agreed that the case against him seemed almost watertight.  During his interview, despite his solicitor’s reservations, Masterson continued to stress the need for nothing to prevent the Hendwinter drug from being bought by the Americans.  Then when asked about the discrepancy with his wife as to which room he slept in, he implied that she took sleeping drugs, but hadn’t wished to admit it because they were ones he’d got for her from work.  Finally, on being questioned about the fabric found in his car wheel arches, he declared that they’d clearly have come from a mechanic who had been underneath the car.  Lewis almost felt sorry for the solicitor, who was trying without success to encourage his client to be cautious in what he was saying. 

Masterson was remanded in police custody and the solicitor didn’t bother enquiring about bail.

Later, once the paperwork was finished, Hathaway looked over at Lewis and grinned.  “So what are we going to do now?”

“Pub?”

“Pub!”

“Yeah, and after that do you want to start series two?”


End file.
